Muza. Who then amid such turbulence is safe?
Jul. He who observes them: ’tis no turbulence,
It violates no peace: ’tis surely worth
A voice, a breath of air, thus to create
By their high will the man, form’d after them
In their own image, vested with their power,
To whom they trust their freedom and their lives.
Muza. They trust! the people! God assigns the charge,
Kings open but the book of destiny
And read their names, all that remains for them
The mystic hand from time to time reveals.
Worst of idolaters! idolater
Of that refractory and craving beast
Whose den is in the city, at thy hand
I claim our common enemy, the king.
Jul. Sacred from justice then! but not from malice!
Tarik. Surrender him, my friend: be sure his pains
Will not be soften’d.
Jul. ’Tis beyond my power.
Tarik. Tomorrow—if in any distant fort
He lies tonight: send after him.
Jul. My faith
Is plighted, and he lives—no prisoner.
Egil. I knew the truth.
Abd. Now, Tarik, hear and judge.